


One Cold Hand, Two Warm Hearts

by buckybabybaby



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Other, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22042558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybabybaby/pseuds/buckybabybaby
Summary: Ice skating with Bucky Barnes.(one shot forfirefly-in-darkness' winter challenge. Thank you for letting me take part! My prompt was 'ice skating accident'... I hope you like it!)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	One Cold Hand, Two Warm Hearts

The inhumanly cold hand tapping the end of your nose lets you know exactly who thinks its okay to wake you up before daylight on your day off. Bucky Barnes has had a key to your apartment for almost as long as you've lived here and often pops round unannounced, so often in fact that you have a section in your wardrobe full of the clothes he's left behind.

Since you moved in opposite Captain America's best friend five years ago, your life has not known peace. He's always found some way to draw you into his messes, right from the first meeting where, all in the name of being neighbourly, you'd helped him collect the fruit that had escaped out of the bottom of his paper carrier bag and scattered all across your shared hallway and staircase.

“Why do you need so many plums?” You had asked, and thus began a wonderful friendship you wouldn't be without.

Even with the pre-dawn wake up calls.

“S'early Buck. What d'you want?” You mumble into your pillow, burying yourself further under the duvet, too warm and comfortable to think of getting up.

“Ice skating! Hurry up, why aren't you ready yet?”

Whining quietly, you twist so you can peak at him over the top of your many blankets. Nobody should look that beautiful at seven in the morning, the dim light from the living room is creating a halo around his hair and making him look even more angelic than normal, and you only just stop your sleepy self from reaching out and pulling him in to lay with you.

“You forgot, didn't you?”

That kicked puppy look will be the death of you. Many people have told you you're completely smitten for him, and at times like this you can see what they mean; you can never say no to Bucky. The last thing you want to do is upset him or let him down, which is why you hold your hands out and allow him to half-lift half-drag you from your cosy bed and upright into the chilly air of your apartment.

Grabbing the warmest clothes you can spot quickly, you dart into your en-suite to change. “I didn't forget. Not completely. Just that it was today.”

How you forgot that, you don't know. Bucky has been so excited about it since you'd agreed to accompany him, the sparkle you'd seen in old photographs back in his eye every time he talks of New York winters in the thirties, when he and Steve would drive into the state to find a frozen lake to skate on.

At least for this first time he's agreed to take you to a proper rink.

Zipping up your coat, you snatch up your gloves and rush out into the kitchen where you find Bucky waiting impatiently.

“Ready?”

“Err, breakfast?”

“We can get something on the way,” He promises as he ushers you out of your home. “Come on, clocks ticking!”

*****

The car park for the Skating Arena is completely empty when you arrive, never a good sign when you know Bucky as well as you do.

“Is it even open at this time?”

“Not exactly.”

“Bucky! I am not breaking in-”

“We won't be! Don't worry, Sam is friends with the owners, they'll let us in. And this way nobody will bother us.”

You know it's more than that. Large crowds are nobodies best friend, and Bucky is recovering from years of trauma. His name may be cleared, and his new role as an avenger alongside Sam has brought in a fresh generation of fans who defend him loyally against the occasional bigot, but he still shies away from large gatherings of unfamiliar people. Following behind him as the sole employee who's in this early unlocks the front door for you both, you swear to yourself that, even if you don't, you'll make sure Bucky has a good time this morning because there's no one in this world who deserves it more.

The unmarked ice reflects the twinkling fairy lights strung around the edge of the viewing stands, making the rink look less like an intimidating sports arena and more like one of the cosy Christmas scenes from the postcards in Bucky's memory notebook. It's peaceful, and after fastening your laces you sit contentedly on the sidelines finishing your croissant and hot chocolate as you let him take the lead.

Bucky wobbles slightly when he first sets foot on the ice, making you snort.

Mock glaring, he beckons you towards him. “Come on then Y/N, let's see you do better.”

“Oh no, I know I won't be any good. But I haven't been boasting about how amazing I am for the last week.”

“Give me a second. It has been eighty years.”

You watch as he finds his balance and slides forward tentatively. He's tense at first, his movements stiff in fear of falling, but before long the muscle memory kicks in and he makes it a full circuit round the rink. Waiting until he's over on the opposite side again, you brave walking in the skates and shuffle over to the entrance gate. Clinging to the door, you put one foot then the other onto the ice, surprised by how slippery it is even just standing still.

Bucky passes by as you're dragging yourself along the barrier, not daring to move your feet off of the floor.

“Do you need help?”

“I'm good,” You reply.

It's obvious he's enjoying himself, letting you do your own thing as he zigzags all over the place, dismissing the arrows directing him anticlockwise around the rink, yet another benefit of it being just you. He laps you for a second time and you laugh, shaking your head at his smug expression.

You're half way round when you regret not excepting his help. Near the score board there's a section where the netting is gathered and blocking your way, forcing you to push away from the support of the side and glide past it. It's nerve racking and at one point you nearly slip over, eventually crashing into the wall when you make it across the gap as you have no idea how to slow yourself down.

You take a break, subtly catching your breath. Scraping at the ice with the tip of your skate, you admire the way Bucky makes it seem so effortless, every inch the natural he claimed to be.

Spotting your lack of movement, he skids to a halt by your side.

“Why aren't you skating?”

“I'm fine here.”

“No Y/N, that's not the point.”

Taking your hands his, he guides you away from the wall and into the middle of the floor. Bucky skates backwards as you try your best to keep upright, eyes locked on the ice in front of you.

“Eyes forward, Y/N. Then you won't crash.”

Looking up, he grins at you when you gasp, clinging onto him tighter as he pulls you along faster.

“Maybe try moving your feet,” He teases. You do as he says. “There! You've got it.”

You nod, a smile slowly coming back to your face as you realise that it's not that difficult with help. Maybe you'll never be as good as Bucky is, but it's a start.

After another lap where he's basically acting as your support, you let go with one hand and he moves so you're skating side by side, your rhythm becoming smoother the longer you practice. Glancing over at him, you find he's already looking back. Rosy cheeked and bright eyed, he's the picture of carefree innocence and you can feel yourself falling a little bit more as he squeezes your hand encouragingly.

The rush of love makes your heart stutter.

“I think you'll be okay now.”

Releasing your grip, he lets you go at it on your own. Your initial panic is soothed as he stays by your side, letting you get used to moving alone but not too far away if you need him, and when you look more comfortable he goes back to racing across the ice, occasionally whipping past you as you applaud his skill.

He's soon back, holding your hand and coaxing you to speed up, scarf flying behind you as you skate in circles together.

Then it all goes wrong.

“I'm going to pick you up now, okay?”

“What? I don't-”

Before you can finish your protest, Bucky's hands move to your waist and bring you into his hold. Lifting you up a couple of centimetres, his mistake is to try and spin you, as when you feel you're about to topple over your leg reflexively kicks forward, sending the blade of the skate straight into the vulnerable flesh of Bucky's shin.

Dropping you back down as he winces in pain, you struggle to keep yourself upright whilst also checking on his injury, not paying attention to how close the side of the rink you are drifting. Bucky hits it first and you crash into him in turn, both crumpling to the floor without grace.

You don't miss the way he catches you just before you fall, and how he's still shielding you from the cold ice when you come to a rest, his body heat seeping through the padded coat he's wearing as you lay in his arms in shock.

“Ow,” Bucky whispers from beneath you, snapping you out of your daze.

“Sorry!”

Scrambling off him and kneeling by his side, ignoring the melted ice seeping through your joggers, you gingerly reach out for his leg where you guess he's hurt. The way he's holding his organic hand awkwardly in his other worries you too but you have to deal with one thing at a time.

Rolling up the leg of his trousers, you are relieved to see his skin is only slightly red, and not pierced and bleeding as you feared. Satisfied, you replace his clothing and move on to his wrist.

That doesn't look so good.

“Can you stand?”

Using his metal hand as support, he picks himself up and slides to the next exit, where he sits on the end of the front bench and lets you perch next to him to continue checking him over. He's silent, watching you tend to him. When your trembling hands turn his arm over to inspect the dark bruise forming under the skin, you sniff, coughing quietly and ducking your head to hide the tears that threaten to fall.

Bucky notices. “Y/N.” Cupping your cheek with his cold hand he tilts your face to his. “It's okay.”

A couple of tears escape as you lean into his touch. “I hurt you.”

“I hurt myself.”

“But, I-”

“And I've had much worse. Don't cry.” He fishes a tissue out of his pocket and helps you dry your eyes. “Now, are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” You choke out, so full of love for this man. He's always looking out for others and it makes you want to hug him and never let go.

You're interrupted by the owner who witnessed the commotion over the surveillance cameras and has brought you an icepack wrapped in a cloth. Nodding in thanks you carefully place it over Bucky's injury, sitting back on the uncomfortable seats as he tries to cheer you up with a story about Steve breaking his arm on one of their skating trips back in the day.

“So you see, could be much worse.”

“You didn't say anything about this before!”

“Because I knew you'd never agree to come with me.”

“Maybe there's a good reason!” You exclaim, gesturing to his own arm and the icepack resting on top of it, which he goes to remove. “Hey, keep that there. It'll help.”

“I don't need it any more.” Taking it off and putting it down on the other side of the seat, he flexes his wrist without flinching in pain. “Super soldier healing, remember. It was only a little bump.”

Taking his arm back into your hands, you squeeze it gently, fascinated by how the bruise disappeared in minutes whereas on an ordinary person it would take a week. Sometimes you think he's more reckless because he heals so quickly, and whenever he's on a mission you feel like you hold your breath until he's home, the need to know he's back and safe just across the hall a clear sign that you care more for him than you admit out loud.

If one quickly healed bruise has you crying, you don't want to know how you'd be if he was seriously hurt.

Letting his wrist go, you hide your emotions behind scorn.

“What were you thinking?”

He sighs, looking away. “I wasn't. I was trying to show off.”

“Didn't really work, did it? And who were you showing off for?” You say, glancing around at the empty stands.

“You.”

“ _Me_?” He doesn't answer so you push on. “Why?”

“Because I like you!” Something in him snaps, and suddenly he's standing in front of you, pouring his heart out. “Because I think I'm in love with you but I'm too scared to actually say anything outright so I do stupid things like this, hoping that you'll be impressed and realise you like me too. I'm sorry it nearly got you hurt. I don't really know how to do this.”

He sits back down with a thump after he's finished, emotionally exhausted. Staring at each other wide-eyed, you can't find the right words to respond, nervous laughter bubbling out of you as you think about how absurd this situation is.

“Please don't laugh.” Bucky's face falls. “Tell me I've read it wrong and you'll never feel the same way, but please don't laugh at me.”

“I'm not laughing at _you_ , I'm laughing at _us!_ Everyone says we're both as blind as each other, but I didn't know they were so right.”

“What are you saying?”

“That you don't need to show off for me. I'm already impressed, whatever you do.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So I nearly broke my neck for nothing?”

You giggle, rolling your eyes as you playfully push at his chest. “You didn't nearly-”

The rest of your sentence is cut of as hismouthmeets yours, one hand twisting into your hair to guide you closer as the other slides around your waist to hold you against him. His lips are soft and insistent, never too much, leaving you wanting in the best way.

Of course he's a good at this. Nothing can compare to how it feels to be kissed by Bucky, when he'shandling you so gently and yet making your heart race wildly, better than you'd ever imagined.

“Is this alright?” He asks, breaking away for a second to search your eyes, the cheeky grin on his face suggesting he already knows the answer.

“Hmm.”

“And has this put you off ice skating forever?”

“Surprisingly, no.”

“Good. So you'll come with me again next week?”

“Only if it always ends like this,” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his nose.

Bucky laughs in delight. “Deal.”

Laughing with him, you pull him into another kiss, forgetting all about the cold from the ice as the warmth between you grows.

**Author's Note:**

> My own [tumblr](https://buckybabybaby.tumblr.com/), if you want!


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